The Hunter:  Lucien's Origin
by KABren
Summary: Before his tragic death, before his honorable role as Speaker, before he was a member of the Dark Brotherhood... there was the first murder that admitted Lucien LaChance into the guild. Who he killed or what drove him to do it was unknown... until now.
1. Part 1

It seemed too perfect to exist outside the pages of a storybook; a hillside farm house with a grand view of the Imperial City, not far from the edge of the Upper Niben. It was a piece of country undisturbed by the bothersome ruckus of town, but close enough to the city to make the weekly trip for necessities hassle-free. Aaron was especially ecstatic about the new home, but for his own special reasons. There were more insects and small animals for the young boy to catch and play with, and the nature-enthusiast had a lot of yard explore.

"Remember, this is not at all like the city!" A voice called out from the front porch. "Do not wander too far or out of sight."  
>"Da!" Aaron blasted from where he was playing, not more than a hundred feet away. "I'm ten years old! I'm almost a man!"<br>"Doesn't matter- there are things out here that make an easy meal out of people- boy or man."

"Yeah, and you face them almost every day!"

"Because it's been my job for almost fifteen years now. I have skills and wits that help me survive each encounter."

Indeed. Since the raw age of thirteen his father made a living as a large game hunter. Because he was one of the few that dared to take on an animal twice the size of an average man he was well respected and heavily paid. It didn't hurt that, as one born under the Shadow, he had the ability to make himself invisible for a brief amount of time- that was a valuable power for someone who had to strike his target before it even suspected that it had company. One could say he managed well for a single parent, but because he was alone it was still a struggle in the beginning. But when Aaron was older and experienced enough to share chores and look after himself, it lightened the burden his father had to carry.

Aaron noticed him wincing with a sharp, backwards hiss through his teeth. He abruptly jumped to his feet and raced over to see what he was doing, carrying the large toad he caught in his gentle hands.

After reaching the steps of the the porch he was met with an unexpected and disturbing sight. "Da? What are you doing?"

"Something I've meant to do for a long time." His father's right arm was covered in red marks, which were made by the edge of the dagger he carefully scraped over his skin. But careful or not the bleeding couldn't be avoided. Aaron was shocked and confused by what seemed like an act of insanity. Perhaps being bored out of his mind in the country was what drove him to do it. "And I think you're old enough to understand why I'm doing this."

"Ya, I really hope you do tell me why you're cut'n yerself up! Are ya going crazy?"  
>"No." His father chuckled. "Y'know that this part of my arm was always covered, right? Wrist bands, long sleeves, gloves, gauntlets..."<br>"Yeah, come to think of it."  
>"And you see what I've been covering up, since I haven't finished removing it?"<br>"A... tattoo. But da you have a few others that y'never cover up. Why this one?"  
>"Because this one was a declaration to the world of a commitment and promise."<p>

Aaron was in silent contemplation for a moment, sighing as he watched the remaining black marks on his father's skin turn red. He cringed, not because he was abhorred by wounds, but because he thought about how much the process of removing the tattoo must hurt.

"To ma?" Was all he uttered after being quiet for so long.

His father paused briefly as he looked down at him with his solemn brown eyes, before narrowing his brow and coldly paraphrasing. "To the woman that gave birth to you. There are probably a thousand things one could call her, but 'ma' is not one of them." He continued scraping.

Aaron's brow popped up. Had he been a boy who knew his mother at all he would've been offended by his father's criticism, which seethed with an old contention. But until he learned about how life began he thought Lucien LaChance was the only parent he ever had.

"That's gonna scar bad." Aaron pointed out, half distracted from the subject.  
>"Probably. But it'll be much easier to look at." He smirked as he applied a disinfecting paste to his arm.<p>

"What happened?" He asked, taking his gaze off of Lucien's arm to give him direct eye contact. "Please, da. Like ya said I'm old enough to know... and don't sugar-coat it."  
>"I never have, and I certainly don't intend to now. You deserve the unadulterated truth."<p>

Aaron seated himself on the old wooden chair next to Lucien, waiting attentively for what he believed was going to be a long story. As Lucien began to wrap his arm he searched the sky for his reflection.

"She got into the skooma... and then entered the world that revolved around it. She left us for it... and then it killed her." Was all he said, crunching the entire story down to a few simple sentences. Aaron sighed heavily, petting the toad as he watched it's throat bubble out each time it took in a breath.

"I'm sorry, buddy." Lucien heaved as he slouched back. "It's alright."  
>"We've been doing just fine on our own haven't we? I've tried to be both parents... to give you a happy life..."<br>"I know... yeah everything's fine. I never knew her so... it's not that big'a deal. I'm happy. But are you happy?"  
>Lucien chuckled. "You make me happy, kiddo. I think that I'd be lost in this world without ya." "Aaaw." Aaron made a wry face at his father's 'mushy' words. That's when he decided to change the topic. "So, y'gotta hunt tonight?"<p>

"No, Aaron. It's Sundas. We're going into town."  
>"We?"<br>"Yes, 'we'. You and I."  
>"But what about the goats? Don't ya want me t-"<br>"They'll be fine. I put plenty of food in the trough to keep them happy all day. Go wash up real quick cause if we want to be back before sunset we gotta leave in a few minutes. Alright?"  
>"Sure!"<p>

Aaron bolted through the creaky front door with zeal in his heart. Lucien picked up the toad that was sitting contently on the table in front of him and gave it a quick pat on the head before releasing him into the field.

Lucien did not 'sugar-coat' the story at all, but he withheld lot of details. He did not want to be a man that allowed his past to consume him or anyone else. That is why he decided to finally remove that tattoo, which was a part of a traditional Imperial marriage. He did not want to drown others in the grimy tales of what he had to endure since the night his ex-wife, Rosalla, started behaving strangely. He also avoided telling Aaron that it began only three weeks after he was born because he knew that the boy would ask if it had anything to do with him, and Lucien would have to answer truthfully. The truth was 'yes'.

_No one needs that on their conscience._ He thought.

As Lucien waited for Aaron, the memories he struggled to distance himself from lurched out. Memories of Rosalla's mood swings that got worse and more frequent during the five days that followed Aaron's birth; Lucien was verbally and physically assaulted every time he returned from a hunt- she was convinced that 'hunting' was a code word for 'seeing other women'. It wasn't the truth, but the quirky voice in her head told her that it was. The voice also told her that Lucien drank heavily and hit her with the broken leg of a chair, and she distributed those rumors through her equally eccentric friends. Fortunately the people Lucien had to worry about receiving those rumors knew it was a lie, seeing no evidence whatsoever that she was even pinched.

Lucien didn't know it at the time, but this was the first prominent sign that Rosalla was ingesting skooma. If he did he would've been prepared for the next appalling act that happened a week later. He returned one night to a house void of anyone but a very neglected infant. Aaron was crying at the top of his lungs over several things that were not tended to- he was hungry, heavily soiled, cold, and deprived of parental love for what seemed like the entire day. The desperate father rifled through the entire town for help because he did not have the means to feed him. Fortunately Velus of the Merchant's Inn had a good alternative to breast milk and the starving child was finally well fed.

Rosalla's whereabouts and reason for absence was unknown to him for quite some time. After another week, worry promptly turned into fury when she returned. She was not kidnapped, trapped, or harmed in any other way- she was staying in one of the hotel rooms at _"The King and Queen Tavern_", taking in enough shots of skooma to completely loose sense of time and concern for anything but herself. Lucien demanded an explanation, and that is when she revealed to him the shady life of self abuse that involved not only skooma but lewd activities with groups of men and women that were also lost to the substance. She poured out all of her hatred for the tedious repetition of...

"Eating, baby, cooking, baby, sleeping, baby! No more thrills! No more joy! Just routine!" She screamed.

She did not have Lucien's sympathy. Instead he expressed how disgusted he was by her lack of strength and willpower. He contested with the fact that...

"Everyone has to put up with a long stretch of dull and strenuous routine every now and then! That's life! And it's not like this all the time, you just dwell on nothing but the negative and ignore all the wonderful things that are right there within reach- I ask if you want to go out you pout'n say you don't feel like it! I ask if you want me to stay home and you say you want me to go ahead and get the hell out of the house and leave you alone! You are such a piece of work! And this skooma... and everything you've been doing... God, I thought you were above this! I never thought you were stupid enough to fall into it... do you know what it does.. or what it has done to you!"

It was pointless for Lucien to recount the fact that he didn't leave everything up to her. He helped out around the house when he was able to- but Rosalla stubbornly believed that she did everything and he did nothing. She hardly noted the many nights Lucien got less than two hours of sleep because he offered to lift the baby burdens off of her weary shoulders.  
>But the one thing that made it clear to Lucien that Rosalla was no longer going to be in the picture was the unforgivable act of abandoning the infant. It was not going to take more than one incident to convince him to extinguish her from their lives. So the night that Rosalla returned was also the night he would see her for the last time. Out of fear of harassment Lucien decided to move out of the Waterfront District house and live secretly with Velus and his wife Janine. One month later, imperial legionnaires reported to LaChance that they found Rosalla's body in Bravil.<p>

He felt no remorse.

The first five years did not simply roll by- they sluggishly moved through a horrible grit. Such times in Cyrodiil were unkind to single parents.

_But we made it. I don't know how... but we always found a way._ Lucien thought. _One can get through anything if they have unwavering faith and spiritual endurance._

Lucien did not give up, and keeping his son in mind inspired him to preserver.

* * *

><p>As much as Aaron loved being out in the country, there were some things in the Imperial City that he missed. They used to be within walking distance of the most engaging entertainment, scrumptious treats that could never be made better elsewhere, and loyal old friends that were practically adopted into their family. Though their primary reason for being there was to gather weekly necessities, Lucien wouldn't deny the opportunity to catch a show at the theater or visit warm acquaintances. The day was somewhat soured by a commotion that rang throughout the entire city. Within every district, at least a hundred or so protesters gathered together to vehemently express how unsettled they were about Uriel's tax system. Lucien detected nothing threatening about them since it was only hot air that the people threw out left and right. They seemed angry, but well behaved. Lucien planned on staying until noon, but because of the stirred-up bunch putting a fowl stink in the air for them both they thought it was better to cut their merry time in half and go home early. But they couldn't leave without making one last stop at "<em>The Laughing Dragon<em>", a quaint little pub in the north side of the Market District _(Which, under new ownership, would later become a clothing shop called: "Divine Elegence".)_

"Weeeeeell! It sure's been a while since I seen ya! How'ya been LaChance!" A meaty, bearded man behind the counter beamed.

Lucien returned the wide, toothy smile as he and Aaron walked over to the counter. The bartender gasped when he saw the boy.  
>"Good laaaaaord, is that yer lad there!" He bellowed. "He's grown too fast! Like he wa'n't but a little babe a year ago!"<p>

Lucien nudged Aaron. "You remember Lokei don't you?"  
>"A little." Aaron replied with a shy grin. "I think I remember this place too."<br>"Ya y'should. When y'da was out hunt'n you stayed 'ere with some other kids tha m'wife watched over. Bar's an odd place fer sitt'n but all them kids turned out better than most, I think."

Aaron hopped onto one of the bar stools to sit next to his father, whom was given a complimentary mug of spirits. "Did I mind well, sir?" He asked.  
>"Oh haha! As well as any child yer age would."<br>Aaron laughed. "That don't sound good."  
>"No, really. Y'were alright, kid. Just too curious fer yer own good a'times. An' bless ya, y'wanted to share what y'found under a rock with tha other children- some'a them didn't share th'enthusiasm."<br>Lucien laughed into his mug, spraying some beer back into it. "Sounds like my boy, alright!"

Their delightful moment was sharply interrupted by a reminder of the protesting when the chanting outside grew louder.

"I know taxes are important but... damn." Lucien grumbled.  
>"Been like tha' fer a week, now. Where d'ya stand?"<br>"I don't think much about it... then again I don't have to. I live in the country now. I don't get taxed that hard."

"Hey da." Aaron butted in, tugging on Lucien's sleeve.  
>"Hey back. What'cha want?"<br>"Well... since we're here, and won't be back for a long time, can I go to the book store?"  
>"Did you finish the other ones already?"<br>"A'course I did."  
>"Wow. Well alright they're... about three or four Septims so... here." Lucien dug out some loose change from his pockets and handed it to Aaron. "Good, tasteful literature. None of that Maid crap. Alright?"<br>"Alright. Thanks Da!"

Aaron hurried out of the pub, hardly phased by the crowd that was growing in size just a few blocks down the street.

"So... how's it been?"  
>"What?"<br>"He's older now but still... ya raise'n him up on yer own. No mother."  
>"We do just fine." Lucien exposed his right arm so that he could apply a fresh treatment.<p>

"Oh lordy, ya finally did it. Oh, but that musta hurt!"  
>"It wasn't so bad. Gonna take a while to heal though."<br>"Hopefully it'll heal fast if ya gotta have a priest put a new one on soon, eh?"  
>Lucien shook his head with an eye roll. "That's not going to happen... ever."<p>

"Come now. Rosalla was a weak, self-absorbed bitch but'cha don't let tha make y'think all women're like that. M'bye there's a strong, confident, honorable spirit that'ya could be proud of wait'n fer you ta go up to 'er n'introduce yerself."  
>"I just don't have any inclination to settle down again... ever."<br>"Not even fer yer son?"  
>"All he needed was a mother-figure and the ladies like Rohssan and your wife Cassandra provided that very well."<br>"I s'pose yer right'bout that."  
>"I know I am."<br>"But what about... ya know... 'certain needs'?"  
>"I still have hands don't I?"<p>

Both Lucien and Lokei tore their sides apart with hefty laughter.

All day long the waves of angry cries and outbursts filled the city. But a change occurred in the tireless symphony- anger turned into fear, hollering turned into screaming, and instead of remaining stationary the crowd was a formidable stampede that tore through the streets and alleys.

"The hell...that doesn't sound like protesting." Said Lucien, with a growing dread lumping in his chest.  
>"No... tha surely does not!"<br>"Sorry Lokei but I need to take off. I don't think Aaron's safe right now!" Lucien bolted to the door without giving a second to hesitation.

Lucien was shaken to the core by a ghastly sight the instant the door swung open. The streets were littered with bodies in a river of their own blood. Those who still remained in the crowd were fleeing, some barely clinging to life as they crawled on their elbows. He wouldn't let fear hold his feet to the ground- at high speed he darted into the mess to get to the other side of the district, nearly vomiting on his way to First Edition when he made the mistake of looking at the dead on his way there. A few legionnaires caught his eye- swords were drawn and drenched in blood. Something clearly went awry and gave them a reason to attack the crowd, and many innocents went down with those that started trouble.

"Aaron!" Lucien screamed, but his voice was drowned out by the flood of cringe-inducing screams all around him.

"AAaagh...oh God no..." Lucien coiled and jerked his head away when he saw a mother holding what remained of her five-year-old daughter, whom had nothing to do with the protest. She was only passing by at the wrong time. Just like Aaron.

"Oh...lord... no... no no no." Lucien was on the verge of snapping into a panic when he thought about Aaron meeting the same fate, sinking his spirits down into a deep, cold place. "He went to the book store...that's probably where he was when it happened... at the book store. He's okay. He's okay." Lucien sprang around the corner, ready to burst into the _"First Edition"_. But Aaron was not inside. He was sitting on the steps, hunched over with his arms crossed over stomach.

"Aaron!" Lucien screamed.

The boy slowly turned his head towards his father. His eyes glistened under the flood of tears that poured out of his eyes.

"Da." He said with a dry weakness in his voice. At first Lucien was relieved to see that he was still alive, but upon uttering that one word a bloody cough followed. At that very instant any remaining strength Lucien had in his body was stolen from him. He dropped to his knees and crawled the rest of the way over.

"Aaron wh...wh.. what happened! What...did they do? What the hel...he...made them..." He lost it- he couldn't fight back the tears induced by the sight of his one and only son fatally injured. Judging by how deep his wound was, and how much blood he had already lost, Lucien knew Aaron had only a few seconds of life remaining in him.

"Da." Aaron coughed. "Y'were... goo'da."

The only thing Lucien could do was comfort his son until he breathed his last, cradling him back and forth in his arms. So many questions filled his mind- he wanted to know what possessed the guards to attack everyone in the street most of all. But he knew that Aaron, barely able to manage a whisper, would not be able to give him answers.

"Aaron... y... yer all I have... my whole life!" Lucien cried, drenching his son's dark hair with his tears. "You were such a good boy! I love you son... I've always loved you, God help me...God help me I don't know what I'm going to do now...I d'know...y.. you are everything... you're my life."

"Is... cold, da." Was Aaron's last words.

When the boy's body went limp, and the last of his tears streamed down from his blank eyes, his father lost all fortitude. Along with the other mourners, he wailed like never before into Aaron's chest until he could utter nothing but a shudder exhalation.

* * *

><p>Emperor Uriel Septim received word of this tragic slaughter when one of the few noble legionnaires reported to him with the untainted truth. Uriel was a soft-spoken sort. It was said that the day he yelled at anyone would be the day snow fell upon the Planes of Oblivion. So when he began spouting his outrage at the very top of his lungs, everyone within an earshot believed Mehrunes Dagon was gathering his minions for a snowball fight. The legionnaires responsible for the innocent deaths were given astonishingly light sentences- all ranks hit rock bottom, all merits and rewards were confiscated, and their names were stripped from the Book of Honored. Uriel's forgiving nature would serve as a fault in this case. So much was disinherited, yet no one lost their place within the legion.<p>

Uriel Septim announced to the public the very next day, and not without a long-winded apology and assurance that he did not approve of the legionnaires' actions, that he would cover all of the expenses that went into burial and services for the departed; Aaron among them. He was buried next to the other members of the LaChance family in the Palace District.

Lucien knew that his son was not six feet beneath where he curled up and prayed all his failing heart out to the divine powers that he was loosing faith in. Aaron's soul was in a place where he would find eternal rest and happiness. He knew this- a boy like him deserved it.

_"But are you happy?"_ Lucien remembered those words that melted away a part of an ancient hurt in his heart.

_Such a sweet boy to consider the well-being of others. He had such bright future... the possibilities were endless for him. He was bound to have a happy and successful life. But not anymore. His chance was stolen. By those pigdog legionnaires!_ Lucien clenched his fists and teeth as he embraced the headstone, unable to pull himself away despite his hunger and need for rest. He wanted to believe that he would eventually find a way to let go of things he could not control and embrace what was set in motion. It was something he had to do every time he lost a family member in the past. But Aaron's case was different. The boy was truly all the family he had left.

In time the imperial gathered enough will to leave the cemetery, dragging himself into the Market District to find sustenance at the Merchant's Inn, where he knew he could get himself a decent meal and a strong mead. This would be unfortunate for a few of Velus's customers, who were helping themselves to too much alcohol. They were mourning, but not over loss of lives- it was over the devastation of their careers. Lucien hardly noticed them when he walked in- or anything other than Velus and the counter. But after he was given his meal and mead, contemplating as he picked at the food like a finicky cat, he tuned in to their conversation.

"H'said fire when they ge' out 'f c'trol and that wha'we did!" One of them shouted, barely understandable after downing his sixth bottle of beer. "N... no.. he said fire if they st...start getting violent. Well someone threw stuff at us...r...right?" The other replied.  
>"Is't that th'same thing?" "Yeah... it is."<br>"So do you think y'lives woulda been in peril... if ya hadn't killed that five year old?" One legionnaire in the corner scolded. "You all need to just suck it up'n take s'me responsibility fer your actions. You put this on yerself so... I don't pity you. I went down with all'ya because I struck people... but I did what I was told... I struck those who tried to kill Nathan! You... you on the other hand... didn't bother to discern! You... just hacked away at anyth'n that moved...y... stupid bastards!"

A loud and garbled disagreement roared from the other legionnaires as they threw bottles and food at him.  
>"Screw you... I'm done with you all!" Were his final words before sitting at the counter, wiping the mess off of his uniform as he muttered more profane comments under his breath.<p>

"What is your name?" Lucien asked him, not certain why he bothered to strike up a conversation, let alone want to know what his name was.  
>"Cornelius." The legionnaire answered. "Why?"<br>"I want to know who I am thanking for saying what had to be said. And for being one of the few that know how to control themselves in a chaotic situation. And, I guess, sorry that you had to fall with them."  
>"Well... thanks." He nodded, taking a couple heavy gulps from his bottle. Surely he had better self control, but because he was one more bottle away from being drunk he was less apprehensive about speaking his mind. "The emperor was furious... yet I don't think he was furious enough. He lets them stay. Were I in his place, I'd first break m'foot on their asses and then have 'em exiled."<br>"What happened out there exactly?"

"Well...after a full week of every district in the city filling up with people yelling and cursing about taxes, rattling the nerves of the legionnaires that were commanded to strike only those who threatened lives... patience and restraint wore thin. That was how the chaos began, when a handful of violent protesters attacked a guard who made a smart remark. What he said is neither known nor important, but it was not a welcomed comment and someone believed he deserved to get impaled for it. Once that fight began, and some of the attacker's buddies joined in, I motioned for a few guards to help me deal with them... and _just_ them, I swear to the Great Akatosh.  
>When emotions are high intelligence will always get stomped down to the lowest level- one stupid move after another, exchanged between legionnaire and protester... it's hard to know exactly what happened because it happened so fast...but I do know that those men... who are, I should add, supposedly trained to pay attention to detail... those men decided to just strike everyone. They lost it... they blindly swung at everything that went by. Panicked or just falling into a passionate fury that built up over the week... it doesn't matter why, they knew what they were doing... and they didn't stop. You know something... I'm not supposed to say this... no civilian is supposed to know this... but far too often a soldier is excused for slaying an innocent when they claim that it is... 'collateral damage'."<p>

As Cornelius rolled on Lucien felt a hot, sick anger form within. The men responsible for his son's death were no more than a couple feet away. His head and heart throbbed as the temptation to strike them all down intensified. Of all things LaChance lost, or thought he lost, a clear mind and self control was not among them. He understood how foolish it was for one mere hunter attacking all five imperial soldiers at once. He was a methodical stealth hunter; if he decided to be their executioner he would put more planning into it.

"I would do it." Cornelius admitted.  
>"Do what?" Lucien asked, though he was quite sure of what he was insinuating.<br>"They killed innocent people. That's a crime punishable by death. I'd do it... but I have too much to loose. I have a wife and daughter."

_But I have no one_. Lucien thought, letting Cornelius's words sink into him and arouse a greater desire for vengeance. He wanted to dig more information out of him._ "What are their names? What are their schedules like? Routines? Where do they usually go at night?"_

But LaChance held back. Perhaps Cornelius was hinting to Lucien that he should exact revenge, but perhaps not. Uncertainty in that matter kept him silent, but he made up his mind about what he wanted to do. The legionnaires had to die for what they did, there was no question about it... and he was going to be the one to kill them.

He decided to eavesdrop on the marked legionnaires to learn everything else he needed to know. Names, places, events, and significant times were thrown out by loosened tongues all evening. By midnight Lucien had more than enough information to come up with a fool-proof strategy.

(End of Part 1)


	2. Part II

Through eyes made anew Lucien saw the law and those who were entrusted to uphold it in a different way. The world was not black and white like before, but various shades of gray. Being a soldier of the empire was no different than anyone else that took a life- the only difference between a guard and a murderer was 'sanctification'. If Uriel commanded his legion to wage war against men of another empire, or ordered an executioner to behead a criminal, it was not murder... because he told them to do it.

So what it truly meant to be 'guilty' or 'innocent' was what Lucien pondered all evening long, unable to keep his focus on the straight path. All his life he refrained from stealing when he was desperate for necessities, attacking people when they wronged him in some dire way, and leaving it up to those on high to ensure adequate justice was served... and what were some of them doing? Concocting excuses for crimes they punished others for when they stole, killed, raped... taking advantage of the people in every way possible. Law meant nothing anymore. Law was a joke... a word that was used to make the oblivious sheep of the empire feel secure or controlled. And virtue; not a single man was sinless. All fell in some way or another. All were guilty in the eyes of the Divine- of what varied. But if the Divine damned not the soldiers that were commanded to slay, then what did that really say about an ordinary citizen doing the same? Especially when it is in the name of a balanced system that its lords neglected.  
>But it no longer mattered to him what the Divine approved or disapproved of. He didn't care anymore. In fact he wondered if they existed at all. Perhaps there were forces at work that he could not see, but his patience and trust in them were diminishing.<p>

"It's obvious that I mean nothing to you... and that Aaron didn't either." Lucien mumbled aloud as he soaked his desk in long hours of work, scribbling plans on paper. For seven weeks Lucien had devised a plan for how he would strike down all three targets in one night. He knew that it wouldn't be long before the legion noticed a missing soldier, and as soon as it was discovered that the soldier was killed everyone would be on high alert. It was better that everyone was caught unaware. "Everything I did, or did not do, meant nothing. We're just a bunch of marionettes dancing and screwing around for your amusement... that's pretty much it, isn't it? If not well... you sure have a bad way of showing how much you 'love' your devoted servants."  
>Lucien's soul was pulled two ways; by the belief that the Divine abandoned them and by the belief that the ever-so sinful nature of mankind was the true culprit.<p>

"I'll tell you this...I find myself uncertain about many things right now... except for one thing. I'm tired of just praying for the right thing to be done. I'm just going to do it myself."

_Dante Augustas, Silas G. Bachius, Julias Rexton_. He thought as he prepared for the hunt the way he always did, with the exception of praying to the Nine; burning special incense to flush away apprehensions, going over the plans again in his head for an hour, and drinking liquid manna to keep hunger satisfied and body free of fatigue for the entire night. _None of you will see the sun of tomorrow._

* * *

><p>Silas G. Bachius had his lineage to thank for not being thrown out into the gutters with nothing but the clothes on this back. With a captain as a father and a woman of noble birth as a mother he had a safety net ready for him to fall into every time he found himself on the ledge. Never once did the legionnaire foresee the impending consequence for being a careless half-wit with a short temper. Now, on the surface he shined and sparkled like every awe-inspiring legionnaire was supposed to. His morals and manners were a reflection of his armor- buffed and polished enough to have a high mirror shine. He excused his obnoxious behavior by saying that he was passionate about his duty. Merelle, the original owner of Stonewall Shields didn't think so when he saw an item in her shop that he liked but couldn't afford to buy. His bartering methods were a tad unorthodox, since he threatened to have her arrested if she didn't just give it to him. Since Tamriel had to follow the 'Three Witnesses' law no one could simply report him without proof. Silas knew this and took full advantage of it everywhere he went.<em> (And as you may recall, he would not be the first person to do this)<em>

At the Merchant's Inn he sealed his fate when he gave away his hour of duty and where he was ordered to patrol- or loot it, in reality.

Ten o'clock in the evening. The first hour of a pitch-black sky. How perfect.

It would not be the first time Silas was obliviously stalked by LaChance. He wanted to know what places he regularly chose to loot so that he would know where to strike the legionnaire. The hot spot, between the hours of 10:00 and 12:00, was a storage facility at the Waterfront District. Imports from exotic lands that most only read about beckon his greedy heart. With what seemed like too much excitement he'd pry the crates open and dig through the packing as though they were birthday gifts.

The weather was favorable for the hunter- stormy skies sailed beneath the moon, casting darker shadows about the land. It allowed him to pick the lock of the storage room and enter undetected by the guardsman. Patience was an important trait for hunters, and that is what Lucien had. Anxiety pinched him, but he wouldn't let it do more than that.

Except when, in a dead-quiet room where the slightest pin drop could be heard, the sound of the lock being tampered with filled the room. It pierced his heart and made it beat ten times faster.

And yet he did not budge. Whether he succeeded or not rested on how well he maintained his focus on what he had to do; acting too soon or too late would be costly.

_How will I know it really is him and not someone else who really is here to check on things. Maybe a guardsman really did see me and wanted to..._

The Legionnaire that hastily entered and closed the door behind him went straight for the cargo box in front of him, prying it open with his sword. No doubt that it was Silas, especially when the light of the window high above allowed just enough light of a barely-shining moon touch his face. Lucien had memorized that unforgettable toad-like mug at the inn.

LaChance entered the storage room an hour before Silas was expected to so that he could prepare the area. For it would not be the blade of his sword that would end his life, but that which the glutton desired for. LaChance had loosened the bolts that kept a storage rack secured to the wall. He tied one end of a rope to the top and held the other end in his tight grasp. Once the unsuspecting Silas wandered onto the exact spot that LaChance wanted him to be in, the hunter pulled the rope. The rack, with over 1,000 lbs worth of imports, came crashing down on Silas. The staggering weight of it crushed and killed him instantly.

Any ordinary person would jump up and shout for joy over his success, but all LaChance dared to do was take in a deep breath, hold it for a few seconds, and exhale with a low growl. A satisfied smile emerged before he stood up from behind the crates he was hiding behind, untied the rope from the rack, and made a careful exit through the door.

Lucien feared the good chance of a guardsman walking by and hearing the crash that would draw them in to inspect. But so far luck was on his side, for no one was in sight. He could use his spell of invisibility, but because it could be used only once a day he decided that it was for emergency use only.

He looked over his shoulder with a tingling dread that a guardsman he didn't see through the thick mist of a rainy night saw him leave the storage room. But it appeared that there were no witnesses- the street even appeared abandoned. But then he stiffened when he saw a legionnaire walking from the other direction. He could barely make out the figure but he recognized the sound- the pace and the clunky metal feet taking long, proud steps... unmistakable. If he ran it would give the legionnaire reason to be suspicious, but by staying there he would be associated with the incident in the storage room once Silas's body was discovered. Remaining calm, he started walking casually down the street but he couldn't avoid passing the legionnaire.

"Good evening, imperial." The legionnaire greeted on her way by. It was a soldier unlike any kind he'd seen before and she didn't look like the sort that frequently visited the city. Her armor spoke of loyalty to the Septim rule and her place in a special unit. It also spoke of a long history of battles, bearing old scrapes and scratches from foes that made the mistake of choosing her as their target. The ornate design on the uniform that was unique in most ways to the standard legionnaire armor suggested that she was a high-ranking officer of some sort. Her face was half-covered by a mask, but seeing the color of her skin was enough for him to identify her race. How rare it was for a dunmer to be in imperial armor of any sort. "Nice evening isn't it?"

"For most." Lucien replied, keeping his head low.

Only the lower half of her face could be seen, but he was able to see the smile, which assured him that she was not suspicious of anything. A brown hood shadowed the majority of Lucien's face, and normally that would raise flags, but it was assumed that he wore it to keep the rain off of him. "Sorry to hear that. What's troubling you?"

Lucien stopped in his tracks but did not turn around right away. "Why so concerned?" He asked.  
>The legionnaire shrugged. "Maybe I'm bored and eager for a conversation. It's what we do to get our mind off of how much pain we're in from standing at attention for two hours straight, marching, attention, marching..."<br>"But yer not."  
>"Not now, no... I was... and I'm still cramped up from it. Doesn't help that it's in ceremonial armor. I'm used to something more comfortable and less noisy." The dunmer sighed as she stretched. "So... It's about what happened in town... isn't it?"<p>

Lucien just sighed, shifting a bit before finally turning around, but he kept his head low. He didn't have to answer- as a member of a naturally intuitive race she read him perfectly.

"I know_ I_ can't stop thinking about it... sure makes me see things differently." She added.  
>"Oh? Were you here when all hell broke loose?"<br>"No. But... it's all people ever talk about right now. Great Divine, even the children... what the hell kinda demon took over their minds and made 'em go crazy like that?"

The legionnaire shook the gloom out of her head. She then pulled a handful of chocolates out of her pouch, which were nearly stuffed with them, and held it up to Lucien's view. "Here. I'm sorry that I can't offer anything more- even a lieutenant's salary sucks. But they're pretty damn tasty- maybe it will sweet'n yer day."

Lucien raised a brow, taken aback by her generous offer. For the first time in weeks a chuckle filled his chest as he took the candy out of her hand. "I... think it will... thank you. Heh. Wh'r kirnd of leg'naire are ya anrway?" He asked with his mouth stuffed with a couple pieces already. Chocolate was a rare delicacy in the Imperial City. He could recall only two other times in his life that he was able to enjoy it. But to keep morale up, and to make up for the seemingly unending stress of serving as soldier, it wasn't uncommon to find bowls full of special treats all throughout the barracks. "Giving out candy. You should be one of those chapel people that give teddies to orphans and sing songs for the elderly."

The dunmer laughed.

"Maybe I will when I'm nearing a thousand! Thanks for the suggestion. Though I don't do this often... just had that random-act-of-kindness itch in me when I felt bad fer ya. Do try to have a good night, dear. And... see you around."  
>Indeed, it didn't seem like much to the officer... but it was enough to, for one brief moment, prolong the forming of ice around his heart.<p>

_There are good men and women among them... but that's not going to change my mind._ He thought... or prayed if he yet believed that someone was listening. _It's time for the next guilty man... Dante Augustas._

_(END OF PART II)  
><em>


	3. Part III

Dante Augustas had impulses of his own, but nothing inspired by greed. His only terrible sin against humanity was the massacre. It was lust that he was a slave to, spending his earnings at the _The Foaming Flask_to watch Ms. Cocoa Cups's giant 'boobasauruses' bounce around as she put her money-making endowments to work on the pole. It was the only time he was seen in public- his duties tied him to the Imperial Palace. Only for a special occasion would he be assigned to the public grounds. But this didn't pose as a problem for the crafty imperial.

No. Not at all.

Lucien had intimate knowledge of the city's infrastructure. His first hunting job, at thirteen, was taking care of rat problems. The colossal rodents were more aggressive than their normal-sized cousins, ready to pounce at anyone within a few feet away. But spreading diseases is what the cityfolk feared the most. He was sent to the sewers to kill as many as he could find, and since he was promised 3 septims per rat he didn't stop until he nearly wiped out the entire infestation.

He remembered that under the stage there was a drain wide enough for a lean body to fit through. No one would see LaChance crawling out from the sewers, and because the base of the pole was secured beneath the stage it couldn't be a more perfect opportunity for him to work secretly. Through small cracks in the wood he could see everyone in the audience- it was crucial for him to see who was sitting in the front seat, though he knew who it was going to be at midnight. A week prior to the night of action he watched Dante, just as punctual as the rest, to know what hour he visited Cocoa every night and what seat he always sat in- right in the middle and in the front row.

Through another set of cracks, he could see Cocoa on the pole. He did not intend to sneak in undetected just for a peep show. It was important for him to know where the voluptuous entertainer was so that the art of his poetic justice was carried out as planned.

And there he was... right on time. Typical for any guardsman.

"Oh hiya, Dante! Come'n ta see me'gain, sweetums?" Cocoa shouted.  
>"You should know by now I'm loyal to ya, y'sexy sugar-fried honey cake."<br>"Ahahaa! Well sit yerself down then, take a load off. No pun intended hehe."

_Oh please_. Lucien wanted to mumble, practically scratching the bottom of his brain with such a high eye-roll.

After several minutes Cocoa finally climbed to the top of the pole. As the moment of action approached Lucien felt the same pinch in his chest that he felt in the storage room. He had to look from Cocoa to Dante several times to make sure that he was still sitting in the right spot and to check for signs that Cocoa was about to spin.

Then... as she twirled around with her legs sticking out, Lucien quickly doused the base of the pole with a corrosive acid so powerful, he had to cover his face as he did so to avoid permenant damage to his eyes and airways. He scooted all the way to the very back, but did not leave the scene yet. He wanted to stay long enough to hear confirmation of Dante's death. The acid ate through the pole within seconds, causing the upper portion to collapse. Lucien heard a crash as Cocoa went down with the rest of the pole, and then...

"By the NINE!" Someone screamed. "Sir! Sir! Are you alright! Sir! Great Divine, he's bleeding! His head is...oh...ooooooh!" Cried another.  
>A great accumulation of screams and outcries filled the entire room. Yes, he was dead alright.<p>

Lucien's plan worked- but of course it would work, he was a keen strategist. Cocoa fell directly on top of Dante feet-first, and because the heels of those exotic stillettoe shoes were as wickedly long and sharp as a dagger they ran him through.

_Death by stripper_. Lucien chuckled inside, smiling as he made his exit through the drain. Initially, killing a human being was a sickening thought. But now he was beginning to enjoy it.

Eventually Lucien would no longer feel even the slightest bit of guilt for taking pleasure in a person's demise... but not that night. He cringed now and then when he spared a moment to comprehend what he was doing- he even questioned himself, but because he already followed through with his plan most of the way it was too late to reconsider. And then there was the sight of what the Blackhorse Courier decided to call "_The Market Massacr_e"; it wasn't just one son... it was dozens of them... as well as dozens of daughters, mothers, fathers, friends... so many gutted like pigs because they were in the way... or because the legionnaires snapped into a killing frenzy. No, there was no reason to feel guilty. Any ordinary man would be executed for these crimes. That was the way things used to be in the old days... when a man's status had no influence on the way he was punished for his transgressions.

_The old days... the old rule... the old law_. Lucien whispered, in the attempt to justify himself.

The imperial was growing confident...perhaps dangerously overconfident. It was smooth sailing throughout the entire evening, everything worked out the way he anticipated without a hindrance, and not a portion of his plans was foiled. The most challenging target, he assumed, was already dealt with. But Dante was as easy to take out as Silas. So with that in mind, Lucien believed he was going to breeze through his hunt for Julias Rexton. Then a sense of balance in the universe would be restored and he might be able to find a way to move on and have another chance at a happy life.

* * *

><p>Julias Rexton was assigned to inspect the ventilation chambers every time his superiors suspected trouble; animals trapped, leaks, cracks, cave-ins, beggers sleeping in them... anything that would disturb or disrupt its function. Lucien knew that, on the particular evening of his hunt, it was Julias that had what they called 'Vent Watch', which had its equal 'ups' and 'downs'. If nothing happens he would have the easiest watch, doing absolutely nothing within those five hours. But he couldn't sleep and he couldn't drink alcohol during this time, and those were two luxuries all soldiers craved the most.<p>

He was playing cards with the other legionnaires at the mess hall, where he and his brothers and sisters in arms chatted away. No one received word about Dante yet, and it appeared Silas's mishap was not known to them either.

_Good. If they are oblivious for just a little longer it won't be difficult to kill Julias at all_. Lucien thought as he peered into the mess hall through the vent in the wall near the ceiling. The taxes that caused such an astounding uproar were being collected to pay for the repairs on the ventilation chambers. They were built thousands of years ago, and like everything else in the mortal world, they began to crumble and wear down. Walls had holes in them, and that made it difficult for spaces underground to receive a sufficient flow of fresh air. It also received the unwanted guests that the chamber gates normally kept out. This problem existed for decades, but it was finally decided that something had to be done about it because a wall between the vents and the sewers gave in to time and gravity. The vents reeked of every imaginable fowl stench! Something had to be done because a lot of citizens were getting sick, so within the last three months men and women were put to work to get the repairs done.  
>But this project was not yet complete, so Lucien was able to enter the vents through the sewer system and find the Legion Barracks. He was not going to sneak into the room- not into the "Lion's Den"! No... he had other plans. He needed to find the room that Julius was in, however... which didn't take very long at all.<p>

He spotted a few people he recognized; among them was the 'Candy Soldier', whom had not removed her faceplate yet. He was distracted by this curious sight, wondering if she had to conceal her identity at all times, even within the company of fellow legionnaires._ Must be a member of a special unit... a spy for the Emperor of some sort._

Then he shook off the distraction and concentrated on Julias again.

"...not going to worry about that!" Julias bellowed.

"Of course you wouldn't... being without care is what got you into this mess in the first place." Retorted the dunmer.  
>"Who are you to talk to me about not caring, soldier? I saw you in the battlefield when we all dealt with that village of vampires! You seemed as emotionless and unflinching as a stone... might as well have been a golem! Left and right your sword sliced through the bodies of the cursed. You didn't care at all about what you were doing... Uriel Septim ordered you to do it... and then you did it, without question or concern. I did the same damn thing the other week and..."<br>"FIRST OF ALL..." The dunmer roared. She yanked the chair out from under Julias, and as the unprepared breton hit the cobblestone floor she continued to humble him. "... when you talk to me you address me as LIEUTENANT! Second, how DARE you compare what you did to our mission in Colovia! This 'village' you speak of was non-existent by the time we got there. Their occupants were long-dead, sucked dry by vampires that had no intention of controlling their urge to prey upon humans! You... Julias... you are a soldier, expected to retain full control of yourself. But you and a couple others just let yourselves go! At the vampire slaying I was in control of what I was doing... I concentrated on every target that I had to kill. You, on the other hand, killed anything that ran out in front of you! How could you possibly make that comparison! How!"

"The comparison is, Lieutenant... being numb about it."

The dunmer had no further response. She could go on about the difference between slaying evil creatures and killing innocent people. Surely if Uriel ordered her to kill an innocent person her attitude would be different. But it was clear that Julias would be stubborn about seeing them all as one and the same, which is a common curse among men and women that choose the life of a warrior.

When all were silenced by the brief drama, Lucien decided it was the perfect moment to draw attention to the ventilation chambers by making strange animal noises and clawing at the wall.

"What the bloody hell is that!" A soldier called out.  
>"Something's in the vents again." Someone else mumbled. "Julias, that's yer area t'night. You go take care of it."<p>

Lucien watched as Julias groaned, uttering a few inaudible words under his breath with a 'yes-sir' at the end. The hunter smiled at the realization that his mission was almost complete. All he had to do was wait for the unwary soldier to wander into the darkness, expecting to encounter nothing more than a colossal rat, and strike him before he even began to suspect otherwise. He would leave the sewers and the county itself without a single witness to associate him with the soldiers' deaths.

Lucien's heart pounded so hard against his chest, he was afraid that the sound of it would give him away. For every minute that passed his breathing grew heavier, the palms of his hands damper, and his composure ever more weakened. It took a while for Julias to make his way over- he had to exit through the city gate and walk all the way over to the east side of the wall, and descend a very steep hill before arriving- all in heavy armor that weighed him down.

For thirty minutes Lucien heard nothing but the echo of dripping water.

But then...

"Blasted vermin... blasted vents..." He heard someone grumble. Just as Lucien did, he would enter the vents through the sewers. He heard the rusty whine of the gate swinging open. "'See the world', they said. 'Have the most honorable job in the empire... make money... have a free place to sleep...have free food'. Blast it all, damned lies. Nothing's free... they take a portion out of pay for all of that...blasted lying bastards!"

Lucien made noises again to attract his attention. In most areas of the chambers, any outcries from the dying legionnaire would be heard. He would still need a lot of time to make his escape, so even then he had to avoid alerting the legion. He chose a location where sound would be muffled by the wind, constantly screeching like a rat so that Julias would follow him there.

"Agh... damn rat..." Julias continued to curse. "When I find you, I'm gonna cut ya into so many little pieces... but that's after I kick th'crap outa ya. I hate rats...hate...rats...damn rats..."

Lucien grinned again, holding back maniacle laughter._ Just up the stairs... through the archway... just a little further, Julias._

Julias did finally climb the stairs and enter the hallway where he would meet his demise... but it seemed that luck left the side of Lucien LaChance. Julias was an arrogant bastard, but that didn't make him a dufas. The breton drank a Potion of Nighteye just then, and that is when he saw LaChance and identified him right away as a suspicious character.

"HEY! Who the hell are you and what'n blazes are y'doing in here!"

Stunned for a few seconds, the hunter stuttered and took a few quivering steps back. He had to think of a clever response and fast!

"W...well.. there are rats in here... a nest full of them in fact... don't you know what I am? I'm a hunter! I was commissioned by the Emperor himself."

"Yes, well you certainly look like one... but I don't buy your story. If Uriel Septim had you hunt for vermin in here the entire legion would be informed. What are you really here for! Are you another one of those bums! Can't you blemishes of society sleep somewhere OTHER than here! Bloody hell, we're s'posed to be having clean, fresh air in here da..."

_Aw hell with it_. Lucien groaned before lunging forward.

They struggled for several minutes, throwing each other into walls, giving and receiving cuts and nics with little sign of wear. But the area around them would not withstand their fight so well... the hallway caved in, pushing them to the ledge. Rexton's sword was knocked out of his hand, and then buried under the rubble that continued crashing down around them.

Lucien found a weak spot in his armor and plunged his blade into his chest. Julias sank to his knees, but managed to ask with a clotted voice: "Wh...why'd you do th...that?"  
>"I'm the father of a child you killed in the Market District, you flipp'n pig! He was a good boy. He had a bright future ahead of him." Lucien gave the sword a slight twist, causing excruciating pain in his body. He squirmed and screamed, but the ears he hoped his voice would reach heard nothing. "He was the only thing in this world I had left. He was the world to me. He was my life- you killed him...therefore, killed me. Your blood for our blood, Julias. It is the way it should be. Go join Silas and Dante, wherever souls like theirs go."<p>

Lucien tried to pull the sword out of his body to slice his throat open, but the blade was in his body too deep, and the thick armor made it even harder to take it out. Nevertheless, the legionnaire's death came to him quickly. His body dropped the rest of the way down to the ground, with half of it hanging over the edge.

With a deep breath, taking in the moment and the satisfaction of a complete mission, Lucien stood up and examined the area to find a safe way to get around the debris and down the stairs.

But just then...

"Julias?" He heard someone call out from the other end of the tunnel.

_You've got to be kidding me!_ Lucien thought, almost gasping in fright to the sound of yet another legionnaire coming to investigate._ Don't panic. Don't panic. There is another way out. There is a north exit so... just... carefully... descend..._

Lucien slowly moved towards the stairs, holding his breath every time his foot made contact with the delicate steps. When the small hallway collapsed it weakened the rest of the structure around it. So, as careful as LaChance was, he couldn't avoid stepping onto loose stone. He lost his footing and dropped to the floor. The sound his body made when it hit the stone was undoubtedly heard by the legionnaire. Though the wind was knocked out of him, he was desperate to get away. He could feel the soldier's approach. He tried to be as quiet as possible, but he couldn't control his body's need for air. He gasped and coughed to get his breath back, while stumbling as he tried to get back onto his feet. But lack of air kept him on his knees.

_Maybe the legionnaire won't come down this way._ He thought. _There are other tunnels and..._

"Explain yourself!" A woman's voice growled from the shadows after she pressed the blade of a silver short-sword against his neck.  
>Lucien looked up to where he believed her face was, concealed by the blackness. He recognized the gauntlets, which were the only things visible at the time. He thought back to the dunmer legionnaire.<p>

Somewhat amused by the coincidence, Lucien smiled and responded with a soothing pitch in his voice. "I really... can't."  
>"You can't? Well... you should start thinking about a story to tell the warden on our way to the-"<p>

Just then, the body of Julias dropped from the ledge and landed with a loud thump directly between them. The legionnaire shrieked and flailed as she staggered back. Lucien seized the chance to make a beeline to the end of the tunnel.

"Oh no ya don't!" She roared, not bothering to identify what the big dark lump was that almost crushed them. Apprehending the suspicious character was the first priority.  
>Lucien was surprised by how fast she ran in such heavy and stiffening armor. It suggested that she had worn it for years, which also meant she had been a warrior for as long as he was a hunter. That did not give him any confidence. Even if he did have a head start she was on his heals within moments. Deciding that it was the perfect time for it, he used his invisibility spell, not realizing that...<p>

"Oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiieeee-!"

...the legionnaire had closed and locked the gate. It appeared that he was trapped, therefore, soon to be cuffed. But instead of stopping he ran as fast as humanly possible.

"I wouldn't!" The legionnaire warned, hearing his pace quicken. "If ya break your ass in half trying to bust it open don't say I didn't warn you!"

Lucien didn't listen- he rammed himself into the gate. Both were surprised by the result- the legionnaire was mistaken about him hurting himself, but Lucien was mistaken about being able to break it down.

The imperial clenched his eyes and teeth, slamming his fists on the bars as he cursed. He expected her to ram her sword into his back, so he closed his eyes, not wanting the sight of the sword exiting through his chest to be the last thing he saw.  
>She did not use a weapon of any sort, but the legionnaire body-slammed the imperial from behind, pinning him against the gate as she growled in his ear. "Hey I don't know what you did... I don't know what that was back there... but you run'n is telling me yer were up to no good. Yer under arrest! The more you cooperate the less it's going to hurt. Now be still!"<p>

She was holding a figure she could not see, but after a minute passed the spell wore off and he was visible again.

"The hell I will!" Lucien elbowed her in the nose, but it didn't help much. All it did was feed her anger. She growled louder and gave him a more aggressive push.

"Hey, stop being a stupid ass or I _will_ use this!" She bellowed. Lucien heard the sharp sound of her short-sword sliding out of its sheath.

"And I believe you will!" He smartly retorted.  
>The extra push that the legionnaire gave him, with double the initial force that was already killing the hinges, the rusty old gate finally gave. When it crashed to the ground, both of them went tumbling over and down the sloshy bank. They rolled so hard and fast that they were momentarily disoriented.<p>

But then the legionnaire, with her arm and all the weight of her body applied to his chest, pinned him down. That is when she had a better look at his face.

"W...w..wait you're... that man!"  
>"Yeah, and you're that 'candy soldier'!" He bellowed back, struggling to crawl out from under the weight. "Which makes me very sorry that you had to come sniffing about!"<br>"No... you will be sorry if you don't stop struggling! Don't forget I still have-"

She didn't realize it right away when it happened, but the dunmer's silver short-sword had slipped out of its sheath during the rough tumble out of the sewers.

"Aw damn!" The legionnaire growled when she reached for her sword and grabbed nothing but air. That's when they both noted that it was lying at the bottom of the bank.

Down the steep and muddy hill they scrambled, brawling still to keep each other from reaching the sword. Neither had intention of harming each other beyond bruises, but whoever had a sword in hand would have more control. If the legionnaire reached the sword she would be able to arrest him; if Lucien reached the sword he would be able to escape armed and ready to fend off attacks. Although the dunmer was more profecient at capturing and overpowering a person, Lucien was a highly-trained escape artist and managed to slip out of her every grasp. The dunmer's armor was thick and heavy steel; it would normally make it impossible for someone to be invulnerable to a kick or punch from her, but Lucien wore armor that was designed to withstand bear attacks. They were well matched.

If anyone witnessed this confrontation they would be amused by such a comedic display; just as one got up from the ground to continue running down the hill the other one would grab and pull them back- down to the ground. Then, once the dunmer grabbed the sword, it was a fight to take possession of the sword. It was flung, knocked-down, dropped, and tossed around into several different areas until took a one final somersault into the air, landing in the drink. At the same time they plunged into the lake, scurrying to find it before the other person did.

"Game over." The dunmer growled as she grabbed Lucien by the hair around his neck and pushed the blade against his throat again. "I'm going to ask you one more time to come along quietly.. be a smart man and do it... I don't want to use this, but I will if I have to!"  
>"Apprehensive about killing, huh? You truly aren't like the other legionnaires."<br>"I'd consider it an insult if someone thought I was." She admitted. "I know what you mean by this... but let's not get distracted, huh? Right now it is about you being a suspicious ch..."  
>"I'm sorry..."<p>

Oblivious to the dunmer, Lucien's hands were untying the empty sheath from his waist and positioning it under her chin. She didn't notice this because from the shoulders down his body was under water, and so was the sheath. Thrusting it upwards, he used the sheath to give her an uppercut powerful enough to knock her out cold.

As she wobbled, within the last few seconds of consciousness, Lucien finished: "...for that."

It would seem LaChance had the opportunity to make a break once again for the east side of the lake, without anyone around to witness his escape from the soldier. But just before he darted to the little boat that was docked nearby, taking her sword with him, he turned towards the unconscious legionnaire. She was sinking into the water. The precious seconds that he needed for his escape were spared to pull her out and find a safe place on the shore for her to lie. He even checked to make sure she was breathing. If it wasn't for that one moment at the Waterfront District he wouldn't have bothered to do any of this, and since she was the one and only witness that could identify him, this was an unmeasurable amount of mercy coming from him.

"Consider this my thanks for what you did." He purred before running to the boat. "But for your sake, you better not follow me after this."

The red glare of dawn's light was at the eastern horizon, but the dark of the night still lingered, so the Imperial did not catch the eyes of the guards that walked along the very top of the outer walls. Heart and lungs swelled with something he did not think he would have when his task was complete. Because the 'Candy Soldier' saw him... he did not feel like a free man. She seemed like the stubborn type... she was unrelenting in her efforts to capture and imprison him, despite what transpired at the Waterfront District. Her defeat would probably inspire her own hunger for vengeance and she will exhaust herself and others tracking him down.

_No... it won't be long before I am a wanted man. Maybe saving her life would change her mind... but maybe not. It's that uncertainty, though... knowing that the most likely outcome of all this is my face on the wanted posters... and then my head on the executioner's block. They weren't just men... they were legionnaires... that's at least three levels down from the emperor!_ Lucien thought, heaving a heavy sigh as a wave of anxiety swept over him. _I must hurry to Cheydinhal... after I make one last return to the house._

_**End of Part III**_


	4. Part IV

After burning his house to the ground, LaChance made a stop at Cheydinhal to rest for his long journey into Morrowind. In a room he rented in _The Newlands Lodge_, the thoughts of 'what if' and 'what will' kept him from getting even a wink of sleep. Initially he planned on finding a place that will never receive his bounty letter, but the imperial was loosing his grip on the hope of such a thing ever happening. No matter what, thanks to the one soldier that saw his face, he would be on the run forever. How could he kid himself! He was never going to have a normal life again; he would have to live on the road, never staying in one place for more than a day. Would his friends provide a place for him to hide? Maybe, but he refused to remain holed up in someone's basement for the rest of his life. The possibility that another price for his actions was loosing friends weighed down his already burdened spirits.

Through eyes blurred by the beer and lack of sleep, he examined the shortsword in his hands, contemplating a solution to it all; the one and only true way he could be free, not having to live the rest of his insufferable life as a fugitive. As far as he was concerned, Aaron was his very life-source, which ended the moment he was taken from the world. All that remained was a hallow, empty, unfeeling shell that spent the last of its worth when it was used to deliver vengeance.

"It's decided. I shall make one final kill..." He knelt down on the wooden floor, held the sword up with the blade end aimed at his stomach, but his hands trembled every time he tried to work up the courage to do it. The unknowing of what would happen next caused him to hesitate. "Who would take this soul?" He mumbled, not sure if anyone heard the desperate prayer of a lowly mortal in his hour of fear and despair.

"Not the Divine, that's for certain." Spoke someone from the black shadows.

Lucien jumped and crawled back to the other end of the room. "Who are you? Where are you? What are your intentions?" With the sword still in hand, he was prepared to to lunge forward.

"Be at peace, Lucien LaChance." The owner of the voice stepped out of the shadows and allowed the light of a candle to reveal herself. It was an altmer, dressed in a black robe and hood, staring at him with soulless brown eyes. "I am not here to harm you. I am here to reward you... with an opportunity to be a part of a Family. Is that not what you need right now, after it was taken from you so soon... so violently." It appeared as though the altmer held back her urge to lick her lips at the thought.

Lucien's eyes narrowed.

"Sensitive subject, I know... but so true... isn't it? Oh how rude of me- my name is Arquen. I am a Speaker of the Dark Brotherhood. Perhaps now you fully understand what brought me here tonight."

"I do." Lucien eased up and sheathed his weapon. "You know about the soldiers?"  
>"Of course... I know about Dante, Silas, and Julias."<br>"How? Were you there when it happened?"  
>"No, Lucien. You were alone... up until the moment that dunmer intervened, but... no.. I did not witness a thing. It was the Night Mother that witnessed it all. She is most pleased with your work...and that is why I am here tonight to invite you to join the Dark Brotherhood.<br>You must accept my apology for interrupting you... you go ahead and end it all here tonight if you wish... but you have another option laid before you now. We will shelter you, keep you from harm, protect you from those who might be out to get you for your crimes. You will be loved, respected, and praised for the things you do for our Family...and for our Dread Father Sithis."  
>"Sithis?"<br>"He is the on we hunt for, dear boy. He is appeased every time a life ends at our hands. This is indeed what you are destined for."  
>"I killed three men, but that doesn't mean I want to kill for a living! I'm not like that!"<br>"Oh but you most certainly are, imperial! Since you were but a child it's what you've dedicated your life to! Every day, for hours, you perfect your skill of cutting into your enemies' body with deadly accuracy, sneaking up to them undetected, finding ways to disable your target so that you could make your fatal strike! You enjoy it... and consider it an art. Don't you?"  
>"Animals!" Lucien argued. "They were animals! I hunted bears, lions, deer, rats... animals!"<p>

"And you think people aren't animals, Lucien? They posses more intelligence and ambition to be better and more civilized than their ancestors, but they're still a bunch of damn animals! You saw for yourself how easily the beast within emerges and makes them kill anything and anyone around them. With just enough stress anyone can snap. The world is better off without a large majority of these stupid, smelly, ignorant, wild creatures. Everyone is in it for themselves in this sick, twisted world. And you think the divines care? You, Lucien, witnessed their 'capacity for love'. What a waste, going to those chapels and praying your heart out for hours, doing everything you are commanded... and then they allow Aaron to be butchered! What kind of reward is that for your loyalty? But Sithis... and the Night Mother... they are all-loving and all-giving. The brothers and sisters of the Dark Brotherhood praise and love each other, filling everyone with more than a sense of worth. This, my dear, is what you need... and what you crave. Is it not?"

Lucien sighed and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back into the wall. Perhaps there was hope within this guild. He wasn't sure if he was ready to believe in the existence of Sithis or the Night Mother, but he knew he was enticed by the offer that was laid before him. "What will you have me do?" He answered after a brief amount of silence.

A perverted grin emerged on Arquen's half-lit face. "We shall receive you as our new little brother when you complete this simple task: One mile south of the city of Leyawiin, there is a shabby old beach house. Dwelling within are five skooma dealers: Rodus, Faviere, Darwin, Sabol, and Argaon. All of them must die. Once this task is complete I will visit you again to welcome you into our Family. Now, I must take my leave. I bid you good evening... hunter."

She returned to the black patches of shadow and then disappeared entirely, leaving LaChance alone to think about the task she had given him. Skooma dealers... part of the reason why his life was so insufferable. Nevermind that his ex-wife was a terribly selfish wretch with or without the addiction... it certainly made a miserable situation even worse.

_They will die. All of them_. He thought, as his eyes lit up with a fresh fire of vengeance.


	5. Part V

_"I will gift you with this precaution."_ Arquen included in the note she gave him, which had valuable details about the targets that helped him construct a plan._ "These people are able to continue selling skooma without getting caught because they are tough survivors- they are strong, skilled, and they never let their guard down because they know that there is always someone out there trying to get them..._

_...here's 300 Septims. It should be enough for the trip, decent inns, bribes, and anything else you may have to spend coin for to complete this contract. This is an example of the fine generosity of our family. We look out for each other... "_

After careful planning, and studying their habits and schedules, he took a route that Arquen did not expect. Instead of going to the shack near Leyawiin, Lucien traveled to Senchal, a city in the province of Elsweyr.

Compared to Cyrodiil, the realm of the Khajiit was exotic and rich with unique cultures and traditions. And how interesting it was, that they would have a facility in which large groups gathered to bathe in wide open pools. In all his simple years in the Imperial's domain he never imagined such a place existed.

The_ Topal's Edge_ was an exceptional bath house, the most luxurious (therefore, the most expensive) of the five in Senchal; adorned with marble, polished stone, gold, glass, and hist tree wood. It was also the only one that had six separate rooms available to rent by groups who preferred have private parties. That was exactly why Lucien was there. His five targets rented a room for a private business discussion with potential clients. It is what they did every other week, because the public areas were monitored for this sort of meeting at all times. Only within the very heart of Elsweyr were traders able to openly sell contraband.

They always chose a time when the bath house was full and lively so that their conversation could be drowned out by thousands of voices. For should it be nearly empty, their voices would carry and it would be easier for someone to overhear them.

It also made it easier for Lucien to complete his assignment... for the same reason.

He uneasily overcame his anxiety over exposing himself in front of so many people, stepping out from the storage room with a towel wrapped around his waist. It's when he saw the enormous room littered with bodies of all shapes, from boney-thin to morbidly obese, that his insecurities dropped completely... and then so did the towel. But he held it together tightly...for concealed in a secret pocket of the towel were two daggers.

Lucien didn't enter the dealers' private room just yet. He waded for a while in the open one, going over his plan one more time. Taking a small sip of the complimentary bottle of mead, he thought of all the possible obstacles; failures and how to recover from them, the chance that there may be more people in the room than he alone could take on. What if there was a witness standing outside? For the first time ever the hunter was pinched with doubt. Never before did he hunt without armor- And there he was... as naked as the day he was born, about to attack men with unknown levels of strength and fighting skills. But it was the only way he could do it successfully. At all other times of the day they would be armed, with multiple layers of heavy armor, and undoubtedly ten times more powerful.

_Forget that you are without armor. If you have one shred of doubt you will surely die._ He thought._ There were other times... you had to fight a timber wolf that attacked you when you were in a similar prediciment. You can do this. You have to do this._

After welling up with confidence, LaChance quietly left the open pool and walked all the way up to the private room in the far left corner of the building.

The sliding door swung open and in stumbled the imperial, acting as though he was profusely drunk.

"This th'party?" He bellowed, bearing all his weight on the doorway with the mead held loosely in one hand. "This...this..th'party? I... I'm sorry I'm late...th...th'said have drink..so... I couldn't say no... it's... impolite."

"Who the f..." He heard someone in the corner say.

"You tol'me...t'be here for ya know... for...ya know...huh..."

Everyone in the room gave each other a look of bewilderment, shrugging and shaking their heads.

"Oh... Sabol, I wish you didn't hire one now! In front of our clients!" An ogre in the far corner cried.

Lucien raised a brow.

"I didn't hire anyone for you, Darwin. This drunkard is obviously in the wrong room so..."  
>"Wait.. no... as long as he's here, might as well take advantage of this fortuitous mistake of his. Come on in. Get comfortable... have a seat in the pool. There's plenty of room. We can discuss your service after our business with these gentlemen here."<p>

Lucien, squinting at first, dragged his feet as he walked to edge of the pool. He meant to insinuate that he was a buyer, but apparently they believed he was there for another reason. What could they mean by 'service' exactly? Since they accepted his presence he decided to not question them and go along with it.

All five targets were present- it seemed like the perfect time to strike. But Rodus, Darwin's bodyguard, was four feet taller and appeared to be ten times stronger than Lucien. He would have to wait for the moment Rodus was ordered to retrieve something from the storage room or shop before he could do anything.

"Don't be embarrassed, Darwin. Apparently... our 'preferences' are the same." Said one of the buyers, as he lewdly eyed LaChance from head to toe. "And I must say... who ever hired him has some damn good taste."

Lucien blinked._ I don't like the sound of that. What in..._

"What's your name, handsome?"  
>"Julian." Lucien lied. He shifted uncomfortably, not used to having another male regard him as 'handsome'.<br>"You must be from the _Rearing Stallion Lodge_. Fine lot they have over there. Unlike the scrap meat working on the corners of the slums... they keep their men fine and healthy."

And then it hit him. _Oh by the Nine... you've got to be kidding me._

Once he was fully aware of what they believed he was there for, Lucien quickly downed a large portion of the mead. "Yes." Was all he could say, still caught off guard by what the sharp strategist did not foresee.

Darwin snapped his fingers twice, ordering Rodus to bring Lucien over to him for a closer inspection.

"When I order a service I ask that they send me stock that is not so scarred up... but... I will not pass up an opportunity when its drunk... delectable ass wanders over to me... free and... well-equipped for the job." Darwin's eyes, abundant with an lusty eagerness, traveled southward.  
>Lucien desperately fought the urge to punch Darwin when he grabbed one of his butt cheeks and pulled him closer, examining every crevasse of the imperial as if he was a show horse. He clenched his teeth, but in a split second forced a toothy smile on his face.<p>

"Don't l'me int'rupt yer b'sin's." Lucien urged, hoping he would convince Darwin to stop. "It c'n wait."

"Yes... It will wait. Go sit yourself back down."

Lucien secretly heaved a sigh of relief when Darwin released him from his tight embrace. He immediately returned to the other corner, near the entrance, and urged himself to remain patient. Anxiety was escalating when he was ever so inclined to get the job done at that very moment. But the timing had to be right... so he waited and endured the crude comments and gestures they swung his way during their discussion.

Then, finally, they closed the deal.

"So do you like to share your 'fun', Faviere?" Darwin Asked.  
>"The more the merrier." Faviere laughed. "So yes... I do. But then I wonder if that's what our special friend here does."<br>"No product of _The Rearing Stallion_ has limitations. He is required to be open to everything... so asking his permission is ridiculous! Hey Rodus. Go get a bottle of troll fat from the shop out front. Don't want things to...chaff."  
>"Hehe...yessir."<p>

_Rodus is being ordered out of the room. Perfect._ Lucien thought.

Without a word he stood up, turned around, and leaned over the edge of the pool. His hands crept into the pocket of his towel and firmly gripped the handles of his daggers. As the two lusty men closed in on him, his near-pleading eyes followed Rodus, waiting for him to leave the room.

Seconds after the door closed, LaChance pulled the daggers out from the towel and struck them down at lighting speed. He caught the others eying the door, so he broke the mead bottle and wedged the glass between the door and the doorway. Without armor or weapons it seemed like these men were helpless against the hunter, who did not slow down or hesitate as he slashed, hacked, and chopped them up into unrecognizable bits of flesh. Voice of doubt and hesitation were not present in his mind. All the fury that built up inside was released on them- fury over what the skooma had done to what could've been a very happy life, and fury over the way he was touched moments ago. Darkness fell upon the room when the lamps were knocked over during the chaotic ordeal, which made the final moments of their existence even more terrifying- fleeing from certain doom in the shadows. It was overkill, beyond anything he had ever done to the animals he hunted. And... when it was over... he couldn't stop laughing, high on the rush he experienced as he struck them all down.

Just then, a large shadow on the glass door caught the corner of his eye. It was Rodus.

_By himself he shouldn't be much of a challenge._ He thought as he unwedged the broken bottle and crouched low.

"H...hey wh... what the..." Rodus thought of Darwin's safety before his own, so instead of fleeing the scene and calling for the guards, he chose to search for his master in the dark room.

"Some bodyguard you are... leaving your weapons in the storage room." Lucien sneered behind him as he closed the glass door. "And now you are without purpose... for all that you were hired to protect are dead."

Once Rodus' eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see their scattered remains. Rodus was met with ghastly sights before, but this was a level of brutality beyond anything he had ever imagined. It induced an acidic sickness that stung the pit of his stomach.

"Whu...why'd you do this y'bastard! WHY?"

"Cosmic balance, Rodus..." Were Lucien's last words before striking the orc at his most vulnerable moment.

Amid the commotion in the open pools, the killings went unnoticed. All the noise drowned out their screams, and there was so much activity that distorted figures of men trying to flee for their lives did not grab anyone's attention.

And, as Lucien had learned days ago, a body covered in blood was a common sight at _The Topal's Edge_, since so many arena fighters chose that place to wash up. So when he casually exited the room and rinsed off in the open saltwater pool, he only turned the heads of males that were 'interested' in him.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes while he hastily finished washing the blood off, and left after retrieving his belongings.

_"...and when you have completed your contract... you will rent a room at The Drunken Dragon Inn. There I will visit you again and welcome you into our family."_ Were the last words on Arquen's note.


End file.
